


Helping Hand

by Zigaara



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gijinka, Keith is a Torchic, Lance isn't here yet but he's comin, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pokepeople, Shiro is a Trainer, You're Welcome, as the story progresses, no one asked for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zigaara/pseuds/Zigaara
Summary: In this world there exists three types of beings, pokemon, humans, and those that straddle the line in between. With characteristics of both human and pokemon these beings fall through the cracks. Captured in pokeballs and made to fight, tracked down as rarities and curiosities, many hide from humans the best they can but maybe not all humans are bad.Meanwhile something sinister grows stronger in their quest for power over the people of Hoenn. Is there anyone who can stop the Galra?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting any kind of writing anywhere. I debated writing this fic for a good while before setting on a compromise with myself. I'll type up a chapter one and if people don't hate it then i'll continue. Unbetad. No one has laid eyes on this wreck before its being posted.

The cold, clinging, wet clothes were nothing new to him. The sound of the rain had long since faded to static in his mind as he huddled in the alley to block the worst of the wind. His knees were pulled up to his chest as tight as he could, arms wrapped around them. A shiver racks his small frame and he shifts to bring his hands, quickly going numb, to his face. Reaching into his core he gathers his energy and purses his lips before gently blowing on his hands. From his lips comes a flame that flickers in the wind currents. The small amount of warmth is more than welcome but he can’t keep it up for long. Soon he’s back to hugging his legs close and staring blankly ahead waiting for the rain to end. 

The boy is unaware how much time passes before a presence and a shadow at the mouth of the alley draws his attention from where his mind had retreated. Deep indigo eyes look to the alley mouth and narrows slightly at the sight of a human. The quickly muttered apology is the last thing he expects before the human moves away, stumbling slightly. 

It takes a moment for the strange details to soak in. The man’s worn appearance and distant gaze. The uneven steps and lifeless voice. The gash across his face and the missing arm. 

A voice inside immediately reminds him that this isn’t his problem. His kind, those born straddling the line between human and pokemon, are almost constantly hunted. They’re smarter than normal pokemon and tend to be stronger and more adaptable but they're still pokemon enough for pokeballs to work on them and for them to understand but be unable to speak the human language. For this fact along with their general rarity they’re hunted down by trainers, paraded around like status symbols. 

Keith had seen before what happened to his kind when captured in a pokeball. How they come out instantly bonded and friendly with their trainer. It didn’t matter how violent and forced their capture was, they’d come out of the ball calm, curious and eager to do their trainer’s will. Keith wanted nothing to do with those brainwashing devices. So, while he’d likely have a much easier, cushier life as a trainer’s pet he’d resolved to do anything he could to not let that happen. 

With that in mind he stayed away from humans when he could but it was less than he would like. As loathe as he was to admit it, he was weak. There were far fewer pokemon in towns and stronger pokemon were often chased off or caught. Not to mention all the food humans threw away around towns. And so, Keith kept to alleys and roof tops as much as he could, slept during the day and moved at night to avoid people as much as he could. All of this added up to Keith staying where he was and ignoring the strange injured man. He was generally headed deeper into town and as far as Keith could tell he was fully human. He’d get help from one of his own kind. 

It was then he heard a thud from the direction the man had come from. Mentally cursing both the man and himself, he got up quickly and began heading towards the noise. 

Quickly his simple brown boots were soaked. While he’d been fairly damp before, the lip of the building he’d been under had provided some protection. Now the pale-yellow fur that trimmed his orange shorts were soaked and holding water that steadily dripped down his legs and his orange sleeveless hoodie felt even heavier as it soaked up the water raining heavily down onto him. Even his orange fingerless gloves were completely soaked, the pale-yellow fur around his wrist becoming soaked and heavy. His orange hair became darker as it soaked in the water and the yellow of the hair in his ponytail became dimmer and dingier and clung to his neck. 

It didn’t take Keith long to find the source of the sound. Only a few paces away from where he’d last saw the man walk past was the man, now lying face down on the ground. Up close the man was a good deal bigger than him, more so than he’d thought. What was he supposed to do here? 

Keith walks closer cautiously, watchful for any sudden movements. None come, the only movements being the man’s rising and falling chest. At least he’s alive. Why does he care? 

Dark eyes take in the area around them but all the humans seem to be inside to avoid the rain. He wavers for a moment before pushing his worries aside. No matter how much he wants to avoid them, he can’t just stand by and let one die. He needs to get help and there’s only one place he can think of and of course, it's in the middle of town. 

Creeping around to avoid as many people as he can farther into town while still keeping up some speed, he reaches the pokemon center’s red roof a few minutes later. He raises a fist to knock only for the doors to slide open, making him jump back a little in surprise. 

Realizing what he’d just done, his face flushes but he shakes himself and gathers up his courage before taking a step towards the building interior. One step, then another, then another, until he’s by the desk. A human with red hair and a pink and white dress sees him but more importantly the Chansey does. 

While the human spots him and begins to look around, no doubt wondering if his trainer is nearby, the Chansey asks him what he needs. 

“There’s a man. Near the town entrance. He’s hurt and collapsed.” His words are clipped. “I’m going back to him. Get your human to follow if you want to help him.” He finishes before quickly turning and running from the room, pausing to allow the doors to slide open again before he’s gone. 

Knowing it will probably take a moment for the human to decide to follow, he waits for a few moments until he finally sees the Chansey who is clearly looking around for him. 

Keith steps out of the alley he’d been crouched in and gives a small nod, glancing behind the other pokemon to see if the human had followed. When he sees her round the corner he begins running, moving through the same streets he’d gone down before to get to the pokemon center and soon seeing the collapsed human come into view. 

Once the Chansey and the human see him as well they pick up speed and run past him which is fine with Keith. He’s done his good deed, now he needs to get away before the commotion draws trainers. With that in mind, the Torchic demi-human slips into an alley and fades from view, not turning back at the sound of humans approaching. The guy should be fine now. They’d take care of him. Pushing down his doubts he continues to walk away. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Shiro opens his slate grey eyes to a white ceiling. It’s difficult to move but he forces his head to turn and allows himself a better view of the room. The walls are a soft shade of blue with a few simple chairs lining the wall by a wooden door. He’s in a warm bed covered in blankets and he quickly realizes he has no idea where he is. He does have a sneaking suspicion it’s a hospital though given the iv and heart monitor. How did he get here? 

He remembers an investigation. There was a group that went by the name Galra, who had been experimenting on pokemon illegally, especially demi-human pokemon. There was a raid on one of their bases and then...nothing. 

His whole body feels sore, his head is aching but the worse is across his face and his right arm. He forces his heavy head to turn and his eyes widen at what he finds. Or more specifically, what he doesn’t find. His mouth opens but no words escape. At least, he’d thought he was silent but by how quickly the door to the room bursts open and the number of people rushing to him he must not have been. People are around him, grabbing at him. Their words don’t make sense and he needs to see it again but they're pushing him against the bed and he struggles until his body begins to feel heavier and heavier until eventually he can’t keep his eyes open. He surrenders to the blackness.


End file.
